


A Touch So Soft

by readwriteandavengers



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Sharing a foxhole, Snow, with a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 05:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10529493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readwriteandavengers/pseuds/readwriteandavengers
Summary: Frank and Skinny manage to find a moment of warmth in their foxhole.





	

Frank glowers against the snow he sees just outside of his foxhole. The threat of the snowflakes floating in and making it even chiller is high, so Frank shifts and situates the cover that he was able to find. With a small pull, he and Skinny are under safer coverage, so he sits back contentedly.

Skinny repositions himself as Frank falls back, partially against his shoulder and mostly on the dirt wall of the foxhole. Frank had dug out the foxhole with some help from the other guys, but eventually Skinny had wandered over and Frank had welcomed him in. Frank had done a good job. It was dug deeply enough that Skinny felt safer, and the tarp that Frank had scored even gave them a sense of privacy, which is hard to achieve with the company.

Frank exhales in agitation as he thrusts his hands under his armpits, trying his hardest to warm himself up. The warm breath that leads him turns into a cloud in front of him before disappearing seconds later. He and Skinny sit in silence, everything pressed together from the tops of their shoulders, to their waists, and all the way down to their ankles. But even in the close proximity, Frank isn’t feeling much warmer.

“God damn it,” Frank growls as he brings his hands back in front of him and rubs them together roughly. “Can’t fucking get warm out here. I’m sick and fucking tired of this god damn cold and snow and-”

Skinny’s reaching out in a flash, and before Frank realizes what he’s doing, Skinny has his slim fingers around Perco’s. Instantly, Frank can tell just how warmer Skinny is than him, and he’s not sure how but he’s not going to turn down a source of heat. He sighs, letting his shoulders relax as Skinny holds him a tad tighter.

“Sharing body warmth is quicker.” Skinny says sheepishly, as if he has to explain to Frank why he’s got his hands cradling the his.

Frank only nods in response, because he’s sure the other guys have figured that out by now. He knows Spina, Roe, and Heffron were off sleeping in a foxhole somewhere, and Guarnere, Buck, and Toye had been cramped together like sardines when they were on watch. Frank’s getting the hint that there’s no time to be shy about cuddling.

“Thanks, Skinny,” Frank whispers into the dark. He didn’t mean his voice to come out so low, barely heard even in their foxhole, but he knows Skinny hears him. He can see the man’s usually downturned lips turn into a soft smile.

Then Frank feels Skinny’s thumb graze back and forth against the back of his hand, and the soft contented hum that leaves him is not of his own accord. But then he’s starting to feel like a selfish son of a bitch, because Skinny’s such a giver. He’s sure the other must be feeling a chill too, so Frank takes this opportunity to lace their fingers together with a small shift of his hand.

Skinny’s thumb stills where it had been rubbing patterns into Frank’s skin, and Frank thinks he sees the other swallow in the dim light they’ve got in their foxhole. He pushes off the thought as he drags Skinny’s hands over to him. He nudges the lapels of his coat out of the way and proceeds to press his and Skinny’s hands to his chest.

“Damn, Frank.” Skinny huffs out a short breath after his statement, his wide eyes now darting up to Perconte’s. “You’re not so cold after all.”

“I’m just a whiny son of a bitch.” Frank jokes, giving the other a crooked smile.

They sit like that for another few minutes, Frank thinks it could be five minutes or thirty, he’s not sure. Sitting with Skinny just beside him and a new sense of warmth, he feels like he could get lost in a sort of bliss. But then Skinny unlaces his left hand from Frank’s, sliding his fingers delicately up his chest, up his neck, to cradle Perco’s jaw.

Frank’s confused at first, with the soft touch against his stubble, but his face is specifically starting to freeze so Skinny’s warm fingers feel nice. Perco’s left hand is still tied with Skinny’s right, pressed just above his heart. There’s a part of Frank that knows his heart race has picked up, and he really hopes Skinny hasn’t noticed.

Then the rough pad of Skinny’s thumb rubs against Perco’s bottom lip, and Frank’s pretty sure Skinny’s heart must be racing too. Loud heartbeats from the two of them, the sound ringing in their ears as they’re finally surrounded by silence and the fall of snow. It’s poetic, in a sense, but Frank couldn’t give a shit about that. Not when Skinny’s biting on his bottom lip.

He can tell the other’s thinking just by the way Skinny’s brow furrows, but then his eyes abandon Frank’s lips in favor of flitting up to meet Frank’s dark eyes. Then he seems to come back to reality because his face sobers up and he’s pulling his hand back to himself, although Frank’s not going to let that happen so soon. His free hand darts out, fingers wrapping around Frank’s wrist and stopping him.

“Frank,” Skinny sounds saddened as he speaks, “we can’t-”

But Frank doesn’t stop to hear the end of that sentence. He’s leaning forward in their short space to press his lips to Skinny’s, and he’s glad to see the other meet shim halfway. The kiss is firm at first, as if the two are still acclimating to what it’s like to just have someone _there_. They’re solid. Something to hold onto, to touch and to feel.

Then it softens as Skinny outwardly groans in relief. His muscles seem to melt as he falls into Perconte, both hands now finding purchase there again. Perconte feels Skinny’s fingers splay out across his chest as their lips slide together.

It’s like the dam has been broken as they meld together. With chests pressed tight, Skinny straddling one of Perco’s legs, and Perco’s toned arms wrapped around Skinny’s waist, the boys aren’t feeling so cold after all.

“Fuck, Frank,” Skinny whispers between a kiss. He gives the other another peck on the lips before pulling back just far enough to get a good glimpse at the other. Frank’s back is still pressed against the frozen dirt, his lips are shining, and his eyes seem dazed. But Skinny’s eyes dart up to Perconte’s smooth black hair and smiles.

He leans in slower this time, noses just grazing. He could lean in for a kiss, and Perconte’s patiently waiting, but Skinny’s not in any rush. He lifts his hands from Frank’s chest to card through his black hair instead. The soft touch has Frank leaning into Skinny’s hands as his eyes flutter shut.

A touch so soft, in a middle of a war so brutal, is a miracle all on its own.

But then Frank yawns, low and heavy, which brings a small smile to Skinny’s face. He’s tired too. It’s hard not to be exhausted with all that they’ve been doing, pushing the line further and further. And even now, where they’re hungry for one another’s touch, Skinny knows they should get some rest while they still can.

So Skinny swings his leg back over Perconte so he can sit on his side of the foxhole, but he’s not giving up that easily. He feels tempted to tell Frank that when the other gives him a heavily disappointed pout. But he only laughs and throws his legs over Frank’s lap, scooting closer.

“Open your coat up,” Skinny tells him, but when Frank looks hesitant he sighs. “Listen to me once, here, Frank.”

A low laugh leaves Frank, but he does as he’s told. He pulls his zipper down all the way, opening it wide. “Happy?”

Skinny only smiles in response as he leans over and slides himself into Frank’s open coat. And now that they’re in a comfortable position, Skinny grabs the thick wool blanket they were able to nab and throws it over them both. He settles into Frank’s side, resting his head on Frank’s shoulder.

He feels Frank’s chest fall as he exhales, followed by a content hum. Skinny can feel Frank’s arm wrap around him tighter, now resting his hand just above Skinny’s waist so he can slip it into Skinny’s coat pocket.

“Sleep tight, Skinny,” Frank tells him softly, eyes already fluttering shut.

Skinny answers him by nestling his head further into Frank’s shoulder, allowing his eyes to close as well. Skinny’s out quickly after that, shortly followed by Frank. And for a few hours in that foxhole, Skinny and Frank felt warm, cared for, and that they might make out of this war okay after all.  


End file.
